


Dear Shadow, Alive And Well

by ghiblitears



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Guilt, Oneshot, Post-Season/Series 06, Season/Series 06 Spoilers, everyone’s fine they’re both just adjusting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-24 06:46:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14949633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghiblitears/pseuds/ghiblitears
Summary: “Did you need something?”“Kind of? I want to talk to you about something.” Lance’s feet scuff the floor. He hesitates, considering his words carefully. “Well, actually... no, that’s not right. I want to apologize. Properly.”“Apologize?” Shiro echoes, tilting his head.“For not hearing you,” he says.***After everything, Lance still wants to make amends.





	Dear Shadow, Alive And Well

_“dear shadow, alive and well_

_how can the body die?_

_you tell me everything,_

_anything_

_true.”_

_-Fleet Foxes, Tiger Mountain Peasant Song_

_***_

The first time Lance sees Shiro up and walking again, he’s checking out his white hair in the closest reflective surface — a window in the control room that overlooks Olkarion’s expansive city. The pale strands catch the sun’s dying light with fervour, haloing him in a golden glow. He runs his hand through them experimentally, tugging the strands up as if looking for dark roots. His reflection scowls.

Everyone had noticed the new habit’s emergence since his revival, and no one could blame him for it. Even after everything, it’d still be a shock. Maybe it was just a more tangible one than the rest, something he could pick over and examine continually, something he couldn’t ignore.

Well, that and the arm. But that’s another thing entirely, and one Lance doesn’t want to think about for too long.

Shiro must notice him staring, because he pauses and turns his head to Lance in an almost sheepish way. Lance fidgets under the stare, twining his hands together slightly in an attempt to soothe the pins and needles of anxiety that permeate them. He’d come here with a plan, and was thankful to find Shiro alone, but that doesn’t make it any less daunting.

Lance prides himself on being pretty good with words and with comforting people. It would be nice if his own skills would extend to himself for once.

“Hey,” Shiro says — apologetic, almost shy. “Sorry, I didn’t notice you. I was—“

Lance waves in what he hopes is a nonchalant manner. “It’s okay. You must have a lot on your mind right now.”

Shiro pauses, casting his gaze briefly to the ground, decidedly not in the direction of his missing arm or his relfection. “I guess I do.”

They say nothing for a few moments. They’re both unsure how to proceed, and the whole thing has just been so strange since — well, since the beginning, Lance supposes. Their lives don’t have constants, not anymore, but lately any semblance of normalcy they’d had has been thrown for a loop. The rules of the game they’re playing with the universe keep changing, and they have to acclimate somehow.

Not talking about it, unsurprisingly, doesn’t help.

Which is why Lance is here.

He clears his throat. “Um, if you’re busy, I can go.” He jerks a thumb back towards the door. They’d finally managed to make it to Olkarion, and are taking a day to rest up before making the trip back towards Earth. Time to resupply, refuel, and let the Coalition know that there was a new plan underway. There’s plenty to do to prepare, and if all else fails, plenty of places to hide.

Shiro looks surprised, and shakes his head. “No, stay. If you want, I mean. Did you need something?”

“Kind of? I want to talk to you about something.” Lance’s feet scuff the floor. He hesitates, considering his words carefully. “Well, actually... no, that’s not right. I want to apologize. Properly.”

Shiro’s expression changes to one of confusion. He steps away from the window to stand before Lance. This close the change is so much more real. It’s not just the white hair — although that’s the most obvious change, that’s not the only thing different about Shiro. It’s the tiredness he carries now, the weariness that weighs on his shoulders and darkens the skin under his eyes. Lance wonders if he’s been sleeping, or eating. He’s been to hell and back, and it shows. God, it shows.

“Apologize?” Shiro echoes, tilting his head.

“For not hearing you,” he says. The apology causes a flood of emotion within him. A wave of anxiety rushes up his throat and threatens to choke him. Guilt churns his stomach, makes him clench his hands into fists to cling to something resembling stability. He continues, the words coming faster — swift and unyielding, like a river.

It’s not even the first time he’s said these words to Shiro, and it’s still just as much of a gut-punch as it was before, when they’d thought he was gone. When they’d thought he was _dead_.

“You tried to tell me in the void-thing, and then you came to me and told me something was wrong. And I... I could’ve fixed it. I could have done something. I _should’ve_ done something.”

Alarm overtakes Shiro. He widens his eyes and takes a step forward, one hand reaching out with hesitation. “Lance?”

“I’m sorry we left you there so long. I’m sorry we couldn’t help you — I couldn’t help you—“ The words keep coming, and he’s crying before he can really register it happening, much less stop it. Hot tears overflow his eyes and run down his face. His hands shake.

“Lance!”

He meets Shiro’s horror-stricken expression with his own emotions running rampant. He swallows thickly before he speaks again;

“Can you forgive me?”

An embrace meets him before words do. Shiro clings to him with his remaining arm, pulling him in with a surprising amount of force. Because Shiro’s not weak, no matter how much it seems that way — for all his losses, he has strength. He holds Lance steady, keeps him afloat as he drowns in his guilt.

Lance freezes at the contact before he reciprocates. His hands scrabble for purchase on Shiro’s paladin armour. They settle across his back beneath the jetpack, clinging so tight that they start to ache after a minute. For what feels like the first time he appreciates that Shiro is well and truly alive.

“You did everything you could,” Shiro says. “I don’t know what you said to the cl—“ He falters. “To the other me, but I know it must have helped. You’re good at that.”

Lance buries his face into Shiro’s shoulder. A hiccuping sob escapes him, and Shiro shifts the embrace so his hand finds Lance’s back and begins to rub slow, comforting circles.

“Besides,” he says. “I’m here now. Everything’s okay.”

Lance nods. “We’re glad you’re back,” he whispers.

“I’m glad to be back, Lance.”

They stay there awhile, lingering in Olkarion’s control room until Lance feels mostly fine. By now the light has slipped below the horizon, sinking the room into darkness.

Shiro casts his eyes to the stars. “We should probably go. We leave first thing tomorrow.”

Despite the day he’s had, the thought of returning to Earth sends a little thrill through him. He’d dreamed of it for ages, and now it’s finally shifted to something that resembles reality.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Lance drags a hand over his eyes. “Get some rest.”

“I’ll try.”

Lance looks to Shiro and raises a careful eyebrow in a silent conversation.

Shiro sighs. “I’ll try harder.”

“Good.” He rises, heading for the door. When he looks back Shiro’s already back at the window, regarding his reflection that looks less like scrutiny this time, and more like acceptance.

“Hey,” he calls. “Thanks.”

Shiro meets his gaze with kindness. “Anytime.”

**Author's Note:**

> how about that season 6????  
> I’m still screaming  
> Come scream with me @ babykeithsmullet.tumblr.com


End file.
